Obliterate
by Gwyn Gwanylada
Summary: Two part Paul POV response to the prompt: "I think I killed her."
1. Chapter 1

Title: Obliterate

Title: Obliterate

I was never good at keeping my temper. It wasn't my thing. My mom used to say it was in my genes: my father had been abusive. I hated him. I hated that I was like him. I hated my temper. All that did was get me even more mad. I didn't want to be like Carlos Rivers. I wanted to be someone different: Paul Rivers. My own person. My own identity. I didn't want to carry around the fact that I was like him, like the father who had beaten my mother down into submission. It hurt to hear my mother say that, and also to know that it was true.

It hurt to think about, too. Luckily, I had Sam. When stuff got bad, he was there, helping. Sam was good to me. Like an uncle- older than me, more mature, but still a friend, someone I could connect to on a personal level. Sam helped me with my demons. He was probably the only one. I could never take advice from someone who didn't know what I had been through. Sam did know what it was like. He had had his fair share of awful stuff happen to him. Therefore, he helped me.

With his help, I became bearable. But I still raged out of control with phasing. The pack teased me about it. I didn't say anything, but sometimes it hurt. In my experience, only the people you love can damage you.

But today, I was okay. Not good or bad. Just okay. I was on my way to Sam and Emily's house, meeting up with Jared and Quil before running off for patrol duty. Routine stuff. I didn't mind. I liked to run. I was good at it, too. Not as good as Jacob, but I didn't have the blood as strong as he did in me.

I twisted the key in the ignition and parked my banged, defeated car right by the curb. The driveway was taken up with Jacob's Rabbit. Ugh. As usual.

When I walked into the kitchen, it was already pretty filled. Jared wasn't there yet (he was usually late) but Quil was, his imprint Claire on his lap, along with Jacob, Seth, and the kids, Collin and Brady. Jacob and Seth had taken them under their wing, keeping them out of trouble and showing them wolf tricks. Collin thought they were gods. Brady thought they were the alpha. Little kids. I would never admit it, but I had a definite soft spot for them. They were thirteen, untroubled, carefree.

Quil raised a hand in greeting. "Yo."

"Hey, Ateara. How much down time do we have before Sam jumps down our throats?"

"About twenty minutes," interjected Seth. I glanced at his wrist- he had a watch. It figured. Seth was still a bit thirteen himself.

"Mm. Yeah. Has Emily got any food made?" My stomach rumbled as I spoke.

Jacob pointed to the fridge. "She made a ham."

Excellent, I thought to myself, going over to the refrigerator, extracting the ham, and fixing myself a plate. I wolfed down (no pun intended) half the plate in no time.

"So," I asked, stabbing a piece of meat with my fork, "Any news on the pack front?"

Collin shrugged. "No, not really. The vamps have been quiet."

I just looked at him. It'd be nice if someone who actually knew what they were talking about had answered me. I grunted.

Looking at the faces before me, all of them happy and occupied, I felt like I didn't belong. They were content and happy. I wasn't.

Dammit! Why couldn't I be like that? Why couldn't I not be as screwed up? How come I had to be the one with the awful demons? I wished I could be more like the pack. Actually happy.

I took a deep breath. My temper flared at the slightest things. I had to get some air.

I inhaled deeply outside. Breathe, I reminded myself. Breathe.

I closed my eyes. I hated my temper. It ruled my life. I could barely control my phasing. I wanted to get better.

Opening my eyes, I decided to go back inside and talk to Sam. In private. No way was I going to let anyone see me, the angry Paul Rivers, unguarded.

Of course, the kitchen was also full, and asking for a conversation with Sam in private in front of Jacob & Co. was just as public and flat out embarrassing as talking to Sam in front of them. No, I decided, I would wait, and cool down. In the time I procrastinated, they'd empty out.

It was awful to know that just seeing people _happy _pissed me off. Couldn't I just feed off their energy? Couldn't I learn to embody what radiated off them? No. Of course not. I had to be Paul Rivers, the raging werewolf with the worst control issues.

I closed my eyes. _See? _I asked myself. _The simplest things piss you off. _I growled and struggled. _The beach_, I thought. _If I can get to the beach, I can calm down and think about what to say to Sam. How to explain how much help I need. _I wanted to tell the Alpha about my temper and my issues, for the millionth time. I wanted Sam's attention on _my _problems.

The beach was about two miles away. It didn't take me long to run there. Even in my human form, I was still fast, and very, very fit.

I climbed atop a driftwood tree at First Beach. I must have looked ridiculous, a huge, brawny teenage boy on a pale, crappy tree, but I didn't care. No one bothered to look at the kid with anger management issued. They tried _not _to.

Up here, it was nice. I could actually think, since the beach was empty. I liked that. No dumb kids goofing around or dumb tourists, snapping away with disposable cameras.

I lost myself in the rhythm of the crashing waves. Maybe I could be happy. Or maybe I was dreaming. Either way, I lost myself, listening to those waves and thinking how to please Sam with my control. Thinking of how to come to terms with me.

I lost myself there, and then, when I realized with a start that a LOT of time had lapsed. I had been numbed by the waves. I should probably get going. Back to anger. Back to life. Back to patrol duty. Back to uncontrollability.

I didn't want to leave, of course. But then again, I did a lot of things I sure as hell didn't want to do—like put up with Jacob and Quil.

And okay, I did that minimally and crappily and best. But still.

Just as I leaped from the tree, I spotted a figure.

It was a girl, all alone. She was muttering to herself, and my wolf ears picked up what she was going on about.

"So much to do! Homework, chores, applications, and Dad's present. If I don't get a present for him, he'll be so upset. Maybe I'll get Eric to help. He'll help pick out something great. He always does. He's so good to me. We should shop later…" Her mutterings trailed off.

I stood on the sand, right near the water, shaking my head. _Shut up_, I thought. I watched as a wave crashed and dirty yellow foam covered my feet. I was about to turn around, to get going, to run back, but a voice interrupted me.

"Excuse me, hi, but can you move?" The walking, talking girl was not a foot away from me.

I frowned and was all over her in a minute. "Can YOU move. There's plenty of beach. Use it."

"I like to walk _this _path, on _this _beach, at _this _beach. Can you please move?" The girl's expression was now hostile. Her hand flew to her hip.

"Can you not talk to yourself? I have enough in my mind without listening to _your _voice."

"Dude. Move. NOW."

I growled. No way in frigging _hell _would this prissy chick boss me around. The slide of fire slid down my back, unbidden. No! No! No, dammit! Not now. _Control yourself._

This aggravated me further, my fight with myself. Suddenly, I shifted into the enourmous gray wolf. My paws and sharp claws flew outward. My clothes were up in a whir of scraps. And then, when I looked down from a great distance, my eyesight sharpened, I saw the girl laying on the sand, bloody and unmoving.

Her left side of her body had been hit by my nails. Her face was scraped, her torso bleeding freely. It looked like the brown skin had been torn away.

No. No. This couldn't happen. Once was enough! Sam had already had this happen! _I don't- no- it's not- how- _My thoughts flew around, unfinished, and I let out and earsplitting yowl. I had damaged this girls' left half of her body.

I wanted to throw up. How could I have done this? I felt like shit, and I hadn't even imprinted on her. I ruined her. I made her like this, bloody and broken.

There was no one to blame but myself. It was all me. I had lost my temper, had phased. It was my thick, sharp claws that broke her skin and raked over her.

The agony gripped me. In my incoherent, desperate mind, I had only one thought: Sam.

I ran back to the house, faster than I had ever run in my life. I burst through the door, phasing, not even bothering to care that I was stark naked.

I could see that the pack looked startled. "Paul! You're la-" Jacob started.

I knew that my eyes were wild. I cut him off. "Where's Sam?" I demanded. "Where is he?"

"Paul, buddy, are you okay?" Seth looked concerned. I shoved it off.

"_Where is Sam?"_

"Upstairs. Dude, what's going—" I dashed upstairs, not bothering to stick around to here the end of Quil's sentence.

Sam appeared, closing the door of the bathroom behind him. His eyebrows shot up. "Paul." he said simply.

My words tumbled out. That girl needed help. I had just left her on the beach. Anyone could come along and see what had happened.

"Sam, I phased by this girl. I just lost it. I was already mad at myself and I phased and I just… I just… she's bleeding. I left her there. I don't even know her name. She's in awful shape, her left half destroyed. We have to help her, get Sue or someone… to help… Sam…" my frantic voice dropped to a whisper. "I- I think I killed her."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It was a race against time, and, my mind consumed with it, I was terrified that we were losing.

I couldn't push my legs fast enough, couldn't think of enough ways to repent, couldn't know enough things that would keep this injured girl breathing. Sam was by my side, his face grave and knowing that we had to get there.

I retched in my mouth when we came to the beach and saw the body lying there. Sam said we were lucky; no one came there and saw this destroyed girl. I couldn't see the luck in it at all. I was too consumed with what I'd done.

Sam bent over the girl, examining her. His face was pulled tight; I could see the pain in his eyes. He was remembering Emily, what had happened to her. Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks.

The Alpha gave me a hard look. "She's very much in danger from the loss of blood. We have to get her to the Clearwaters. Sue can help."

I nodded feverishly. I couldn't speak. It was too awful. If I felt this bad about breaking a stranger, I don't even want to know how Sam survived after Emily.

Sam and I lifted the girl easily. I help her upper, bloody half. I tried to brush the sand off of her. "I'm sorry," I whispered, throat somehow raw. "I'm sorry I'm an asshole. I'm sorry I phased and destroyed you."

We managed to take a dense underbrush path that only the locales knew about back to Sam and Emily's house. Carrying her on the road would look awful and was a chance we couldn't take. I hurried Sam as fast as I could. We placed the girl in my car. There weren't any blankets, so she was bleeding heavily, but I didn't care. She had to get to Sue's.

I drove like hell was following me to the Clearwaters. Sam sat in the backseat, cramped but getting sand out of the wounds and checking the pulse. He was using the basic health knowledge he knew to help her. I hoped it would be enough. I wanted her to be okay. It was my fault she was like this, that we were in this race. She'd lost so much blood. And then there was the possibility that internally, she was damaged.

The car screeched to an alarming halt in the Clearwaters' driveway. I was surprised Sue didn't come out and yell at us. I thrust open my door, picked up the girl into my arms, getting even more fluid over me, and kicked the door shut. Sam had already gone ahead to ring the doorbell. He was the perfect, calm, cool, thoughtful leader.

Front door already open, I was gentle in carrying this girl inside. Sue, who was disgruntled by our sudden entrance, raised her eyebrows at the sight of me and what I was carrying.

"Okay then. Paul, bring her to the kitchen table. Sam, get me a tablecloth from the closet back there." Her face set, Sue was sure in her movements. Tough old Sue.

I set the girl on Sue's kitchen table gingerly. "So what happened, Paul? Lose control?"

"Something like that." I grimaced. Everyone would see this girl and know the truth over what had happened. There was no getting around this awful occurrence.

"I see. Get me a bucket of water and some rags." She set to work with the tablecloth Sam handed to her, soaking it and then telling me to rip it into sections. She also ordered Sam to call Seth and Leah. As she explained it, "My kids don't just sit around my house and watch T.V. I teach them a thing or two."

Numbly, I handed back the strips of wet rags. Sue began bathing the wounds. "Sam, could you get some bandages and the antiseptic? They're on the shelf by the living room."

I chewed my cheek. Why was Sue giving me the bare minimum to do? It was painful, knowing I had done this, and watching her try to fix up my mess. I wanted a distraction. Instead, I forced my eyes to watch.

Sue worked quickly, Sam working as her assistant. I watched, tears silently, slowly, unfeelingly snaked a path down my cheeks. She cleaned the wounds, getting the dirt and sand out, and then applying antiseptic and bandaging them up.

It seemed to me as though she could not work fast enough. With every beat of this girl's heart, her face paled and she seemed a little more like a limp, lifeless doll.

After an eternity, a silent and furious abuse match in my head, and more bandages, this girl was clean and bandaged. Leah and Seth, who had come in towards the end of Sue's little operation, had entered escaping my notice. Leah calmly soothed the girl, even though I was sure she was dead and unhearing. Sue said it would help if she was unconscious. Seth, looking worried, had gotten a cool rag to place on the girl's forehead and done what he could.

"Will- will she live?" I asked tentatively. My hands were trembling, but I was in complete control. Disgusting, wasn't it, to see that a tragedy of this proportion had to occur to force me to get some sort of grip on my temper?

Leah snorted. "You did a number on her, dickhead. You'd better hope she does."

Sue looked appalled. She dipped the rag she had been using into the bucket of water Sam had brought her. "Leah!" she chided. "Language. I'm sure _Paul_ is plenty remorseful about this disaster. Go upstairs and get some clothes for this girl. I want her to have something to change into if she wakes up."

If. If. IF. _IF? _No. Hearing that tiny little word sent my heart into a frenzy, my throat working. It was all I could so to say to Sue, as her daughter flounced away to her room after throwing a dirty look my way, "I'm so, so sorry. Sue. Seriously. I never, ever meant for this to happen."

"I know. Otherwise I wouldn't have been so understanding. Paul, you need to get a grip."

I interlocked my fingers on the back of my neck. _Oh God. _Even if this girl was okay, I would still carry around the memory of this incident. And everyone would know it, whether I wanted them to or not.

"So… will she be okay? I'll stay with her until she gets better, I promise, Sue, I just need to know I didn't kill her." In my heart, I felt that I did kill her.

Sue said, sighing, "I think so, Paul. But she's going to need a lot of care."

I threaded my fingers through the cold ones of the bandaged girl lying on the table. _She'll make it, _I thought, _She has to._

I'm always dead wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey Paul, you want to watch some baseball

"Hey Paul, you want to watch some baseball?"

I scowled. "No."

"You want to watch some basketball?"

"No."

"You want to watch some soccer?"

"Nope."

"How 'bout football?"

I jammed my teeth together, trying not to let a growl of annoyance pass. "SETH! FOR THE BILLIONETH TIME, I DO NOT WANT TO WATCH ANY SPORTS WITH YOU!"

Seth flinched. His eyes watched my face carefully. "Okay. I'm sorry. I just figured maybe you needed a distraction."

Upstairs, Leah stuck her head over the railing. "The only thing Paul needs is anger management classes. And maybe funeral plans." Her black hair fell past her face like a cascading waterfall.

Now it was my turn to flinch. Leah was so right, but I didn't want to think about why. She was a total bitter bitch about this entire thing. No surprise, really. I could tell it reminded her of Sam and Emily in a way.

The past two days, there had been no change in this girl's condition. I had stayed at the Clearwaters', the mooching, brooding, time bomb. This girl had stirred three times, her eyelids fluttering, but none of us- Sue, Seth, Sam, Leah, me or Sam- could reach her. So I had stayed her, sleeping on the kitchen floor near here. I hated myself for what I had done. I would make sure she was okay, helping Sue whenever I could. I had eaten very little for a werewolf. Somehow, looking at the body, I wasn't hungry.

Sue had tried to move the girl to the couch, but she was in too fragile of a condition- I had punctured a lung. The leech doctor, Carlisle Cullen, had come over and stunk up the place. Sue was uneasy about him being here, but Seth had asked him and he'd hooked us up with half the hospital equipment. I had put pillows underneath her body the first night. The red of the pillowcases looked eerily like blood against the pale, soft wood of the table.

"Chill, Leah. He feels bad about it plenty." Seth gave me a reassuring smile. "She'll be okay."

I hoped so, hoped with every hair and fiber and particle of my body. I had to make sure she was. I don't know what her parents were thinking, but I prayed she was on her own and legal. It was messy enough, and if she had parents, I was putting them through so much pain.

I mumbled something incoherent as Seth pushed himself off the couch to raid the fridge. Not wanting to stay on the couch, I too got up and moved to the kitchen. I immediately went over to the girl. She looked pale, still, and with all the tubes coming out of her, she looked like Snow White on the table with IVs coming out of her. Only, you know. Not white- Native American. Her skin felt even colder than normal humans. My throat burned. I pressed my palm to her cheek.

"I don't know how many more times I can say I'm sorry with it still sounding sincere. But I am. _When_ you get better" -I choked the words out- "I'll make it up to you. Honest. I will. I never want to do this ever again. Maybe I'll give up being who I am."

I sighed, looking at her face, when I saw, at the corner of my eyes, the girl's hand twitch. My eyes widened. I kept talking. Maybe, if I could reach her, she would wake up.

"I just want you to be okay. I hope no one's worried about you. I'm sorry about you being stuck on the table. Sue says you're too fragile to be moved. I just-… It'd be so much easier if we… if _I_… knew who you were, what your name is. I'm sorry."

The girl's eyelids fluttered. I glimpsed only the white part. The eyes were rolled into her head. I retched in my mouth slightly. I swallowed down the bile.

"Seth," I whispered, "She moved!"

The kid dropped the giant bowl of popcorn he'd been clawing into. "Oh crap! I'll get Leah." And he ran upstairs, his giant feet pounding the worn floor.

"Please wake up, wake up, open your eyes, be alive, live, _please!_" I chanted a mantra.

Leah flew down the stairs and stopped lightly next to me. She cocked an eyebrow. "She's showing signs of life, eh? _Finally._"

"Her pulse is steady." Seth had his giant hands over the girl's heart.

"Good. Don't call Mom yet. She's at work and doesn't need to rush home if it's a false alarm."

_It'd better not be a false alarm!_

Leah and Seth moved quickly, checking the machines. I'm grudgingly impressed. Sue really taught her kids.

The girl moaned softly. All three of us leaning over her gasped. Her eyelids fluttered. My nails dug into my palms. _Live. Survive. Wake up. _

With a cough and another moan, the girl's eyes opened. Her pupils were unfocused. "Where am I?" she said weakly, directing it at Leah. Looking around her, the girl's eyes fell on me. I cringed.

The girl frowned. Her chin trembling, she tried to get back up, but fell down. I put my hands under her back, supporting her.

"_You." _she said, and her voice was full of venom. "You're the asshole who wouldn't move…"

I can only assume she realized what had happened with the wolf. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I have nothing but remorse in me, seriously."

"I'm so sure. Now that I'm injured." Even if her voice was weak, she still managed to come off as slightly bossy.

I was silent. Would I have been sorry if I had lost it but not injured her? I'd probably be concerned only with myself. I was so selfish. So very, very, incredibly selfish.

"What's your name?" Leah wanted to know. "I'm Leah, and we've been taking care of you for the last three days. You had… an accident." Surprisingly, her voice was gentle and soothing.

"Brenda." The girl's voice was faint. "A wolf attacked me. I remember now. A big gray wolf. I don't know how he got on the beach. I thought- I thought they live in the woods. I had nightmares about it. When I was sleeping."

I stiffened. The waterworks started up again. My entire body was physically and mentally drained. Agony swelled within. I wished I could go back and prevent this entire thing, so that I didn't have to deal with it all. But that wasn't going to happen. I was the one who had given Brenda nightmares. It all seemed more real, me attacking this girl, now that she had a name and face. The proof of the bandages and weak voice was evidence, and reality.

Leah's breath caught. She frowned and cast me a look. I know what it said. _She remembers. _Nice_ job, Rivers. _

"Shh. Shh. You were probably just hallucinating. It's alright. Wolves aren't going to hurt you." Seth placed a cool rag on Brenda's forehead.

"Yeah…" Brenda's eyelids fell shut. Seth put a hand tentatively on her heart. "She's asleep."

I sighed. "That was better than nothing."

"Yeah, it was Rivers. I can't believe she remembered. Smooth move. God." Leah began pressing buttons on the monitor. She frowned. "That's strange. Her heart rate's dropped."

"Is that bad?"

"Uh, _yeah._ She was steady a few minutes ago…" Leah messed with the machine some more, instructing Seth to rewrap Brenda's bandages. When Seth undid the things, bloody and sticky, I drew my breath in sharply.

Her side was swollen, bruised where it was not torn. She was still bloody, bleeding in a trickle, and the skin had not healed at all.

"Oh, this is bad. Very bad," said Seth, shaking his head.

"Should she be healing by now?" I didn't know what the exact human rate was, being so used to the werewolf rate.

"Yes. She should have a thin layer of scabs." Leah pointed to a gray, pus-y area. "That looks like an infection."

Not thinking about germs, I touched my hand to her bloody, dirty side. _I thought they had washed the wounds. I know they did. I helped!_

"_Paul!" _Seth and Leah said together. Leah put a rag over the area I'd just touched. Her face shifted into worry. "You idiot, she's infected, I knew it, that's why she's not healing…"

An expression of terror froze on my face. The veins in my hands stood out prominently, stretched over the skin that had paled. _No. _How could Brenda have gotten an infection? We'd been so careful. Unless…

"The beach," I breathed. When I had run home to tell Sam, I had left her on the beach. God knew that First Beach was dirty. Sand and stuff had been stuck to where she was bleeding. Another thing that I was responsible for.

"It was my fault. I had left her on the beach. All the germs and bacteria…"

Leah's face was grave. She picked up the phone, hit some buttons, and said, "Mom? The girl, she woke up. Her name's Brenda. But Seth looked at her side and it's infected, it looks pretty severe, all gray and pus filled…" Leah nodded a couple times. She looked horrified. "Okay Mom. Uh-huh. Got it. I will."

She hung up and put the phone on the receiver, slumping on the counter. "Oh, God. Paul… the infection she has, my mom says it sounds like this one she encountered once… It's lethal…. Paul, if we don't find a way to make her better soon, at the rate and stage she's at with the infection… she'll die within twenty-four hours."


	4. Chapter 4

Tick tock tick tock tick tock

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

Time was ticking, and she was the bomb. Her. Brenda.

Leah and Seth said it was bad. What was worse was that Sue was at a nursing conference in Seattle, and couldn't get home early. Her and Leah had been calling each other every hour, speaking in medical mumbo jumbo and trying to do what they could.

I was desperate. To come this far and then to know that Brenda could die so very easily was eating me up. My stomach ached constantly, and I felt like I had an ulcer. Seth was nice, as he always was, talking to me about it, and soothing Brenda, even though she hadn't woken up again. Seth was actually grave for once. The happiness that so normally raditated off of him in huge waves was gone, replaced by a determined concentration. This was taking its toll on him, too.

Ever since Leah had gotten off the phone three hours ago, she had left Brenda only once to phase and tell the pack what had happened.

I hadn't phased since the attack.

It was so hard, trying to stay calm. I was so mixed up about everything: worried about what would happen, mad at myself for what I had done, upset with what had happened, ashamed. There was everything jumping around in my angsty little mind.

I never really believed Brenda would make it. In my heart, I knew how strong I really was. And with all the care the Clearwaters' and I had been giving her, it really killed me.

Leah, Seth and I were there when she died.

Brenda never woke up. We gave her antibiotic ands painkillers, but she had so much infected and her body was weakened by me and the drugs. Basically, what happened was in the fifth hour since the infection was discovered, the bleeding and scabs grew worse, more ugly looking. I couldn't stop the flow of blood. Leah couldn't clean the wound. Seth couldn't soothe Brenda, because she had never woken up again.

The leech walked through the door when Leah accepted defeat. I was so preoccupied, I didn't even notice the awful, icy smell. My nose burned, but my eyes did too.

"We lost her." Leah murmured to the leech, Dr. Cullen. She was reigning in her disdain.

Seth was crying silently. He would get over it, because he was happy, but that didn't mean he wasn't upset. Through his tears, he elbowed me, "Leah's upset, I can tell. She's not even being a brat to Carlisle. I'm sorry man. I'll give you time. This totally sucks."

Damn Seth. Even grieving, he was still considerate enough to care about me and how I felt, and to notice how others were reacting.

_I'm a killer._

The words rang through my head, not for the first time since this nightmare had begun, but now was the first time I knew them to be true. I shattered. This time, hope couldn't repair me.

"Paul?" I turned around to see the leech.

"What?" I said miserably.

"I am very sorry about the loss. I know it's going to be hard on the pack, and now the future is uncertain more than ever. But I want you to know, that, should you feel the urge to talk to someone, well, I also have a degree in counseling. I'm sorry about your loss."

I shrugged it off. _Whatever._

I walk outside, where First Beach is literally in the Clearwaters' backyard. _I killed her here. What happens now?_

Oh my God. That was the question.

I'd taken away someone's life. Something I existed to protect, and had destroyed with those very abilities. Somewhere, a father had lost his little girl, a son his sister, a girl her best friend. Who had Brenda been? Did it matter? She was gone.

And as this crap ripped me up- _I should be dead. I want to die._- I thought of what else.

The pack. They'd know what I'd done, see it through my eyes. Sam would be disgusted with me. All of La Push would. I'd _killed _someone! What would happen? I'd get kicked out. They would never accept me again- not that they did now, anyway. I had no imprint. I was totally alone.

I wanted penance. I wanted to die. But to do that would be to free myself from the agony. That wasn't enough. I would live with this and suffer. I hoped I did. For Brenda. For me.

I would never be a wolf again. I loved that too much.

Not caring about anything, I knew I was all alone, and I started running. I would get away from here, and live on my own. In the wild. A savage beast, my truest nature.

My feet pounded the sand. I wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop.

My mother said that I was like my father with my temper. He the abuser, me the murderer. We made quite the charming father/son duo, even apart.

No. I wouldn't think of that.

_I know I killed her_.

My mother says I'm like my father, the destroyer of life.

My mother was right.


End file.
